Left 4 Dead: The Good Aftermath
by Ollyb123
Summary: RATED T FOR ROMANCE, MINOR ADULT THEMES AND MINOR LANGUAGE. The survivors escape and life really does go back to normal... No seriously, no gimics. No sudden outbreak. Nothing. It's probably gonig to be more entertaining than it actually sounds!
1. Chapter 1

Okay people, first fanfiction ever! I started writing another one a while back, but it went nowhere, so… I decided I'd try and break the mold here. From what I've seen of L4D fanfiction, it's either an OC team fighting out of one of the campaigns, the original survivors in a campaign, the original survivors escaping or having some trauma at the evac camp, or the survivors befriending infected and escaping.

THIS TIME, I'm going to have the majority of the story being at the evac camp. No action, just the original survivors adapting to normal life. Sort of like a soap opera in a book. If this doesn't sound appealing to you, please give it a second chance. You might like it! ^_^

Chapter One

Where one Journey ends, another begins.

"COME ON!! NEARLY THERE!" A young, colored office assistant in a white shirt was yelling to two people. An elderly Vietnam veteran, decked out in his Green Beret uniform, and a young woman, dressed in a red jacket and jeans were running towards the shouts. Both held deadly weapons in their hands, and the veteran was pounding lead from his M16 into a swarm of incoming zombies, whilst the girl was taking some potshots at some straggling infected. The bald black man continued to yell and gesture to the door of the Armored Personnel Carrier the military had just driven in. Inside the heavily armored vehicle was a muscular biker, his head shaved and wearing leathers. He was beckoning for the two stragglers to hurry up – the shaking ground notified him that a ton of muscular flesh was heading their way, but the survivors had just taken to calling them "Tanks."

The Tank rounded the corner behind the barn the woman and elder had been just a few scant seconds before. It tore a chunk of earth out of the ground and lobbed it towards his escaping prey, letting out a roar when his projectile missed. He accelerated after his fast escaping adversaries, swatting aside his lesser kind like playthings. Before the Tank could reach the human contraption that his prey would escape in, the two he were chasing rushed into the metal hatch, the biker bellowing and signaling for the driver to shut the door. The tank came to an abrupt halt as the door shut completely, and the vehicle drove away. He climbed to the roof of the tallest building he could find and bellowed his dissatisfaction to the sky, smashing his fists down on to the tiled roof and breaking a hole in the building, continuing to roar and bellow as he left the farm. The next ones he found would not be so lucky.

*****

"I can't believe we all made it out alive," the office junior chuckled, shaking his head and rubbing his eyes. He had giant sized headache and was tired from running, but at least they had all made it out alive.

"I hear ya loud and clear, Louis," The elder said, proceeding to take out a packet of cigarettes.

"Man, put the cancer sticks away, Bill! We survived a zombie apocalypse, it don't mean we can't die of suffocation," the biker grumbled, gesturing to the small space around them. "We got this much air to last us to the refugee camp, and I don't want it full o' smoke!" The veteran growled and put the pack away, crossing his arms in a sulk.

"Oh, come off it Bill. Francis has a point, I don't want to die of lung cancer in the back of a truck," Louis said, nodding to the biker, who gave a small grin and simply said "Exactly.

"Well, I'm just glad I didn't die reliving one of my old horror films!" the woman sighed, giving a small giggle after. She really was quite chuffed to be leaving the infected and infested streets of the city. "Man, if there's one thing I look forward to at the base, its proper food. Military emergency rations suck eggs," she said, still giggling a little.

"Don't hold your breath Zoey, darlin'" Francis said in his usual gruff and growly voice. "You don't know, they might not have "proper" food there. They might have to live of rations too, you know."

"Crap," was Zoey's reply. The group laughed and joked for a while, before all agreeing that they needed sleep. Two weeks on the run from zombies without any good sleep in an actual bed gave them all aches and pains, and the driver gave them all a pillow and small blanket. They took them gratefully and with thanks, and settled into a deep sleep, with their first untainted dreams in a fortnight. Everything was going to look up in their world, even if it was in a hellish, apocalyptic world where major cities were infested with crazed mutants. Still, they were heading to sanctuary, and that was good enough.

*****

Not much, I know, but I wanted this chapter to be short. They'll get longer later as I have more ideas buzzing around in my head. Until then, stay faithful, dear readers, and please R&R with your ideas and opinions. Please no yelling, however I will take constructive criticism into consideration.

When reviewing:

DO: Give small complaints and ideas and offer advice on how to fix them, give positive feedback on whether you enjoyed the story or not, suggest ideas on what romance/comedy/drama events could happen at the refugee camp.

DON'T: Flame, yell, flood, give unnecessarily mean comments or opinions, say how much the story sucks.

AD MOST OF ALL: I know this chapter is short. Don't mention it in reviews, later chapters will be longer, I swear!


	2. Chapter 2

Haven't had any reviews yet. No reviews make me sad. -_- Anyways, I'm hoping if I have a longer, second chapter out, the story might become more popular. Last time the survivors drove away in the APC and fell into a blissful sleep. Now they are about to arrive at the refugee camp. *Cue _East Enders _Music*

Chapter Two

A Blank Canvas

Zoey woke with a start as the vehicle jolted to a halt. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly. She feared the worst. "_What if a Tank caught up with us?" _she thought to herself. The back of the truck slowly began to open. _"This is the end…" _she thought. She closed her eyes tightly, expecting to feel bites and claws on her flesh…

"You ok there, ma'am?" Zoey unscrewed her eyelids, looking directly into the face of a man in military uniform. He was frowning slightly. Obviously seeing her with her eyes tight shut looked worrying to him. The young man breathed a sigh of relief when he saw her wake up. "Bad dream, huh?" he asked. "Yeah, we get that. You must o' been through some mighty terrible things in the city. Come on, take my hand, I'll help you up."

"Nice offer, but I-I'm fine," Zoey stammered. "I just thought… when the truck slowed that there was… a… oh, never mind. All that matters is that it wasn't." She smiled a little, before stretching and rubbing her eyes. Louis was already wide awake, and Bill was stirring a little in his sleep. Francis, never being out of character, was still snoring loudly, his right hand slightly clutching his privates, much to Louis' disgust. He was looking from Francis' face, to his hand, and back to his face. He did a double take, before giving Zoey a look that made her chuckle a little. Louis then shuffled though his bag, before brandishing a water bottle in Zoey's face. She stifled a giggle, shaking her head, before Louis unscrewed the cap, gently holding it over Francis' face, the contents literally on the brink of spilling over the neck. Zoey gave another snort of laughter before Louis poured half a litre of water over Francis' face.

Zoey howled and her tears of joy came out in streams as Francis spluttered and sat up. By this time Bill was awake, and he joined in the festivities and laughed when he saw Francis' now water soaked face. Francis breathed heavily before wiping some water out of his eyes and turning to Louis.

"YOU SICK, FREAKIN'…!" Before he could finish, Louis was running out of the back of the truck and into the bright daylight, straight towards the camp gates, cackling madly as he went. Francis chased after him, cursing all the way. Zoey and Bill took a moment to compose themselves before strapping on their packs and setting off, and the driver offered to take Louis and Francis' packs to the camp to save them time and energy. Slowly, the two walked after the running figures in the distance, talking about nothing in particular without a care in the world.

*****

"So, that's Bill, Louis, Francis and Zoey, correct?" the gate receptionist repeated to Bill, after he had given the names of the team to her. _"Gee, I shouldn't really refer to them as the team any more. We're outta that goddamn place, they're their own individual now,"_ he thought to himself. He looked back towards his team, _"No, friends…" _he told himself. Louis and Zoey were having a pleasant chat about what they wanted their new houses to be like, while Francis sulked in a corner, his face still damp. When he tried to strangle Louis, the clerk tutted and explained that violence wasn't tolerated here. He had grumbled something ending in "…up your face," as he walked to a chair in the corner, his arms crossed.

"Come on then, people," Bill called to the others. "We got a property market to check. Only this time, we don't have to pay, EVER!" A cheer rose from the survivors as they picked up their few belongings and headed out to the survivor camp.

***

The place looked quite pleasant in the sunlight. Houses were all made of bricks, though on most the second stories were constructed from aluminium boarding. Zoey, Francis, Bill and Louis all took in a breath of fresh air. There were some working cars here, albeit only a few, and the roads were simply shallow, dry dirt tracks roughly dug out in the field the camp was based in. It looked like a nice little community, only being several streets in total, but there was room for expansion if it was ever needed. Louis pointed out a kiosk a little way down the road. It had photographs of houses adorning its walls, and the small sign above it quite clearly displayed "Housing Agency."

"Good spotting, son," Bill said, giving Louis a pat on the back.

"Man, Bill, don't say that any more!" Louis said a look of horror on his face. "People might think you're being serious!" Bill simply smiled and nodded. He sure was young enough to be his son. He knew he was getting old, so things like that might look awkward. Zoey simply smiled and lightly slapped Louis on the back of the head for being so naïve and being ever so slightly offensive to Bill's age. They reached the little estate agents where there was some corny music being played on a radio. Louis recognised it immediately from his days of playing Valve games.

"~Aperture science. We do what me must, because we can~" he sang under his breath. Zoey heard him and gave him a look that basically said "What the hell?"

"It's from Portal. Made by the same people who made Counter Strike…" he said quietly, shuffling a little on his feet before looking away, slightly embarrassed. Zoey continued to stair at the back of his head and slowly shook her head and looked away, a puzzled look still on her face.

"_I Gotta stop acting office dude if I'm gonna stand a chance against some of the guys in here. She'll fall for them in a minute without giving me a second chance!" _Louis thought, cursing his stupidity to mention something like gaming in front of Zoey. He probably just went down on her list, big time. _"Think, man, what does she like… Zombie Movies? Yeah, I gotta break into watching zombie movies!" _he thought, a triumphant grin spreading across his face. Things might look up after all!

Bill examined all the properties available. He scanned the listings before turning to the others.

"So, do you guys want to all get a house together or are we going to split up and become good ol' neighbours?" Francis shrugged indifferently and Louis smiled, nodded and gave Bill a look that sort of said "We're staying with you!"

Zoey pondered on this for a minute.

"Yeah, I guess we can be roomies for a while. It depends how long it is before I get back into dating." Louis' eyes widened at the last comment and his smile faded. Francis, seeing Louis' face, put on an impish smirk and did a pelvic thrust into the air. Louis' narrowed his eyelids and looked into Francis' eyes, shaking his head. Francis did the same, determined not to be beat in an evil staring fight. Louis knew Francis was joking but his patience only stretched so much as far as love was concerned. A night of passion wasn't the reason he wanted to get with Zoey. It was much deeper than Francis' shallow mind could comprehend. If Francis wanted to go get wasted and bang every woman in the camp, then Louis wouldn't have anything to do with it.

"Righty-ho, then. Four bedroom house for us then please!" Bill said, smiling pleasantly to the clerk.

"I'm sorry but all four bedroom houses are taken. The largest we have are a few three bedrooms." Francis snorted in laughter and looked at Louis, who turned a slight shade of scarlet.

Hearing Francis laugh, Zoey simply said without turning to him, "You have the sofa." This shut the biker up immediately. Now it was Louis' turn to stifle a chuckle.

*****

TO ALL FRANCIS LOVERS: This chapter may look like I'm having a dig at the biker dude, but it just seems to me that would be the kind of person Francis is. In fact, whenever I play, I usually AM Francis. So I am not a Francis Hater.

Well, Louis, it seems, has a romantic interest in Zoey! Well, let's just say I'm not going to make it easy for him because I'm evil like that. He's going to have to win her from some other guys who are going to be slight "antagonists" in this romance drama. By the way, this book is sort of going to be a little like the popular British soap East Enders, which by the way I don't like. Its people in a neighborhood each with different side stories all mashed up into a big story. It's gonna be good, people! *Cue _East Enders_ music*

When reviewing:

DO: Give small complaints and ideas and offer advice on how to fix them, give positive feedback on whether you enjoyed the story or not, suggest ideas on what romance/comedy/drama events could happen at the refugee camp.

DON'T: Flame, yell, flood, give unnecessarily mean comments or opinions, say how much the story sucks.

MOST OF ALL: If you still think this chapter is a little on the short side, feel free to say so this time. Just don't flame about it.


	3. Chapter 3

I have a review, and I am happier. Not that I was actually upset in reality in the first place, but it's good to have some POSITIVE, ASSERTIVE SUPPORT!!! Yes, I'm giving people who flame a bit of a nudge here. Previously, we found out Louis' interest In Zoey, and that only three bedroom houses are available! *Cue _East Enders _Music*

Chapter Three

Of House and Home

A small front room with a leather sofa and armchair was what awaited the four inside their new lodgings. Though they didn't match and were slightly worn, they were still comfortable and preferable to have ears bitten of by a man with rabies. A small, low tech, colour TV sat in the corner on a small stand, with a little space around it for ornaments. Two small bookcases held some popular literature, including _Of Mice and Men _and _Harry Potter_. It was a cosy room, and to complete the ensemble, some light wooden floor with matching cream-beige wallpaper that made the room look complete. When the four walked through the breach of the front door, Bill whistled his satisfaction, Louis raised his eyebrows and nodded his approval, Zoey looked slightly startled at how well equipped the house was, and Francis was, well, indifferent in the matter. His hair was still damp, after all.

"For a zombie apocalypse this isn't as hardcore, stripped down and basic as I would of thought," Zoey commented to no one in particular. She lightly ran her hand over the green leather of the three seat sofa, and then again over the scarlet armchair. It didn't match, but she wasn't one to complain. She was just happy she had a house that you didn't have to put the word "safe" in front of to make it inhabitable. Francis was busying himself filling the magazine rack. Louis briefly looked to the magazines Francis had in his pack, but quickly looked away, shaking his head and smirking when he saw the content. Bill took off his beret and set it down on a hat stand that none of them had noticed - Bill was probably going to be the only one using it anyway.

Zoey dug through her bag, looking for a few precious belongings she had taken from her dorm. A snow globe from when she took a holiday to Alaska, and a photo of her family. She took a look at her mother's flawless, white toothed smile, and her dad's cheesy grin, and then to her own solemn and innocent smirk. She brushed away a tear and wondered if she would see her parents again, before setting it down next to the TV, the snow globe next to it. Meanwhile, Louis explored the rest of the house, checking to make sure all the lights and water worked as he went. _"For a temporary living space this seems kin of permanent," _he thought, not that he wouldn't mind spending the rest of his days here, with Zoey…

Francis, his magazines tended to, walked upstairs to see what Louis was doing. He found him absent minded, flicking on and off light switches, a look of thought on his face. Francis sighed and walked over to him.

"You know, I really don't blame ya for falling for her," he said, careful to make sure the others downstairs didn't hear. He didn't want the others to know he had a KIND side, otherwise they might think he wasn't as indestructible as he claimed to be.

"Man, you mean that?" Louis replied, just as quiet. He hadn't seen this kind of thing from Francis before. The biker nodded.

"No sweat. You fine with me. All men got urges, even if they aren't for the whole "physical" side of it," Francis said, a smug grin across his face. Louis got the feeling the last part of what Francis said was more to himself than to him.

When Louis and Francis walked back downstairs, Bill was channel hopping on the TV, looking extremely bored.

"I guess the death of humanity brings the death of good television," he grumbled.

Francis checked their new kitchen. It was pretty basic, a metal sink indented into the mock-granite counter tops. A stove with grill and oven was in place instead of one of the counters. There were five cupboards in total, two overhead above the fridge, and three built in to the worktop bases. A set of draws was in place under the draining board, with another cupboard to the right of it. It looked serviceable and could probably prepare many decent meals in the months, years, or even decades to come. Louis was unpacking a small supply of wine he had taken from a shop in the city and packing it into a handy wine rack in one of the counters. He figured they would open one tonight, as housewarming and celebration.

Zoey, meanwhile, was out and about, meeting the neighbours and checking the small gazebos of goods for sale. She found a small clothing boutique, and picked out a fresh jacket, two pairs of jeans, pyjamas and some shirts. She checked in at a lingerie store and bought some bras, socks and other underclothes. _"No designer brands? I mean, I guess I should be grateful they even have clothes shops here, but…" _she thought as she browsed some panties. She proceeded to walk back home, waving and greeting some neighbours as she went. Fortunately, people still knew how to be polite in these troubled times.

When she arrived, the others simply stood still as she waddled in carrying three over stuffed bags of clothes. Bill barely turned before seeing the shopping bags and turning back to a rubbish game show on TV.

"I never would have guessed. The first thing a woman does…" he mumbled, before taking a drag on his cigarette.

"Hey, guys, I reckon you should get some clothes too." Zoey ordered. "Bill, I'm not letting you wear a torn military jacket in the house. Louis, your old work clothes don't exactly work any more. It made you look pretty cool back in the city, but here everyone is out in casuals. And Francis, your jacket smells so badly of Boomer bile that…"

"Jeez, woman, who died and made you queen?" Francis chuckled. Louis turned away and grimaced. It was only then that Francis realised that joke couldn't be used any more. Zoey's small smile faded and turned to an expression of disgust and Francis' comment.

"Just about everyone," she said simply, giving Francis a sneer and walking out the door, slamming it as she went. Everyone noticed that she was close to tears when she left. Louis shuffled out after her, embarrassed. No one liked her when she got really pissed at them, and Louis wanted to do his best to get her in a good mood. Keeping on her good side got the two closer together. Perhaps he might casually ask her if she wanted a coffee to cheer up, and see where it went from there.

"Wow, tough crowd," Francis mumbled, scratching the back of his head. He looked towards the old man sitting in the red leather armchair, and wondered if he'd even noticed Francis saying anything at all.

*****

TO ALL FRANCIS LOVERS: Again, this chapter may look like I'm having a dig at the biker dude, but it just seems to me that would be the kind of person Francis is. In fact, whenever I play, I usually AM Francis; I am not a Francis Hater. Thank you for letting me clarifies the point again.

The plot gradually thickens, like royal icing when you add more sugar. Yes, that was random. Anyhow, the survivors have a nice, cozy little three bedroom house. Unfortunately, no sleeping arrangements have been revealed this chapter, but they will be next time! ^_^ Tune in next chapter, to find out. *Cue _East Enders_ music*

When reviewing:

DO: Give small complaints and ideas and offer advice on how to fix them, give positive feedback on whether you enjoyed the story or not, suggest ideas on what romance/comedy/drama events could happen at the refugee camp.

DON'T: Flame, yell, flood, give unnecessarily mean comments or opinions, say how much the story sucks.

MOST OF ALL: If you still think this chapter is a little on the short side, feel free to say so this time. Just don't flame about it.


	4. Chapter 4

I'm not putting in a synopsis here this time. It's spoil the plot! Previously, Zoey got pissed off with Francis and left, Louis hot on her heels. *Cue _East Enders _Music*

Chapter Four

Solitude, Friendship and Getting Wasted

She was furious. She knew Francis was a bit of a jackass, but to say something like that in the middle of a friggin' zombie invasion? No matter how much she focused on being mad at him, she still found herself crying. To think that back at the boathouse she actually had some _feelings _for him? She knew now that she couldn't speak to him, not until she calmed down. She might say something as stupid as what he said. He seemed decent and good natured enough when he helped her up and embraced her after she startled the Witch. He seemed ready to take a bullet and jump in front of the hunter that leapt to her. But saying something as hurtful as that when he knew full well she'd lost her parents? All her heart's fire was snuffed out, and now she needed to cry.

Louis found her sitting on a bench, head held low. She was in a presumably quiet part of the neighbourhood, with not many people around and the birds twittering solemnly in the trees. A small tabby cat strolled over to Zoey and rubbed against her shins. A little smile came through on her tear stained face as she gave the cat an affectionate rub on the head, before sending it on its way and sitting up a little, brushing her hands a little on her clothes - like the reception advised after handling animals. She barely stirred when Louis sat down on the bench next to her. There was an awkward silence for a moment, before grief and anger suddenly took over Zoey and she held on tightly to Louis, sobbing into is shoulder. Louis was taken aback a little, but he slowly began to rub her back, muttering soothing words to her.

"Zoey, it's ok to be angry with him. He can be like that sometimes, you know? I think this time… he just said the wrong thing." She looked up at him, tears still streaming a little. Louis gave her a friendly smile, and she cheered up a little. She let go and sat back up, wiping her wet face and blowing her nose.

"_That was unexpected…" _Louis thought. "Hey, Zoey, can I ask you something?" She looked back to him again, a curious look on her face. "Do you want to… I mean, I was wondering…" Zoey narrowed her eyes a little. She thought she knew what might come next. "Do you want to go get a coffee or something, to cheer you up?" Louis finished.

Zoey kept her eyes narrow for a second, before opening them and grinning, letting out a quick sigh. She blinked a couple of times and breathed deeply, smiling broadly. "Sounds good!" She said, standing up. The two walked to the nearest coffee bar they could find, laughing, joking and shoving each other playfully the whole way.

"Hey, Francis, you got a minute?" Bill yelled. Francis was upstairs, reading through some pages of "gentlemen's literature." Sighing, he got up and walked to the hall. He glanced around, stalked over to Louis' room and carefully slid the magazine between two books on the bookcase.

"_If he ever has someone come and help him clean up, he's gonna get one hell of a shock!" _he thought to himself, chuckling at his ingenuity.

"What was it you… wanted… grandpa?" he finished slowly. Bill was sitting on the sofa still, but his shirt and trousers were off. He was wearing nought but a white undershirt, briefs and some black socks, and he was clutching a can of "Old Speckled Hen" in his hand. Francis recoiled a little at the sight of the drunken Bill. He looked a wreck, only after a day of living here.

"Come here, Francis. I wanna play a… a… um… li'l game with ya or something? Yeah, that was it." Bill said, speech slurred and slightly shaky on his legs as he stood up kicked his way through the cans on the floor… _all eight of them._

"JESUS! Bill, what the hell? That was my booze you just got wasted on!" Francis yelled, picking up one of the cans and tossing it lightly so it rebounded off of the senior's head.

"Man, keep it down, ya hooligan. That hurts!" Bill said slowly, rubbing his head. He had a major hangover. "I just wanted you to play a game of spot the moron with me while I watch "Are you smarter than a ten year old!" he said loudly.

"Hell, I can spot a moron who just got wasted in about five minutes right in front of me!" Francis growled. "On my booze!" he added hastily.

"Who is it?" Bill said, with a look of genuine confusion on his face. Francis simply face palmed, pulled on his leathers and strolled out of the house, ignoring Bill's yells of "Where ya going, wuss?" and "Come back and fight like a man, prick!"

Even getting that badly drunk was bad by Francis' standards.

The small coffee bar was really a house that the owners decided to make a business out of. They would make coffee here and sell it to others, and their children helped. The children were always helping raised the spirits of everyone and their tableside manner was adored by all. It was already quite a successful family business, and they had recently purchased several outside tables with parasols to attract customers. Sat under one of the parasols were Louis and Zoey, deep in conversation. Zoey's spirits were significantly raised, and she was daintily nibbling on a pastry Louis had bought for her. She liked how kind Louis was sometimes. He was a gentle person, and he was never far when she needed him. Was it her, or was she beginning to get butterflies in her stomach? _"Nah, it's just a light flutter. I'm just nervous and upset at Francis…"_ she thought. _"It can't possibly be…_"

"You ok, Zoey?" Louis broke her out of her thought trance.

"Yeah, fine. Just thinking things over," she replied, looking down at the remains of her pastry. "Is it fine if I leave this?" she asked. She didn't feel like eating, not with the feelings in her stomach.

"Hell, more for me!" Louis grinned before wolfing down the remains of Zoey's meal. Zoey giggled and put her hand on her lips to stop herself making a scene, pointing at the side of Louis' lip. He wiped it a little before feeling something slightly damp on his face. It was a little amount of cream and jam. He smiled and nodded his thanks to Zoey, before pulling out a tissue and wiping at the side of his mouth.

"Thanks Louis. Tonight's really helped me get over some things," Zoey sighed. She could probably cope with the loss of her parents now, as long as Francis said nothing stupid.

"No problem, Zoey. Anytime, I'll be here for you! Come on, the other two idiots are probably waiting for us at home," Louis said, smiling a little. He got up and stretched a little in his chair. Night was just beginning to set in and the pair had been there most of the day. Forever being a gentlemen, Louis took Zoey's hand to help her up to her feet, which amused her to no end.

"_Sometimes, it's funny how kind he can be," _she thought.

Past eight at night, the two walked in to quite possibly the most bizarre scene in the world. Bill and Francis had their arms linked, doing some kind of strange can-can on the dining room table, a can of beer in each man's hand. Both of them were singing slurred song lyrics and Louis and Zoey looked on with faces mixed with confusion and bemusement. The dancing drunks both seemed ready to end their performance when they both bellowed the last line:

"_BUT WHEN YOU'RE A PROFFESSIONAL PIRATE...!!!"_

Francis stumbled and fell off the table before quietly finishing:

"_You don't have to wear a suit!"_

Louis and Zoey both turned to each other at the same time, before both putting on coats and making rushed excuses that they had to go out, and they bustled out of the door.

*****

Right, to clear a few points up:

The whole game of "Spot the Moron" is a game me and my family devised. We watch a game show that involves general knowledge (Such as _Who wants to be a Millionaire? _Or _Are you smarter than a ten year old? _(fourth grader for my American cousins out there!)) We see who does terribly badly or fails to answer the most easy question in the world, then shout "MORON!" when they fail. It's amusing!

The song Francis and Bill were singing at the end is from _Muppet's Treasure Island_, quite possibly one of the most comically ingenious films of all time. The song in particular is called "When you're a professional pirate" if you want to YouTube it.

More emotional tension, ooh! Were those really just nervous feelings in Zoey? Will it evolve into something more? Find out in the next episode of DRAGON BALL Z!!! *ahem* I mean, The Good Aftermath…*Cue _East Enders_ music*

When reviewing:

DO: Give small complaints and ideas and offer advice on how to fix them, give positive feedback on whether you enjoyed the story or not, suggest ideas on what romance/comedy/drama events could happen at the refugee camp.

DON'T: Flame, yell, flood, give unnecessarily mean comments or opinions, say how much the story sucks.

MOST OF ALL: If you still think this chapter is a little on the short side, feel free to say so this time. Just don't flame about it.


	5. Chapter 5

I'm not putting in a synopsis any more, ever. It will spoil the plot all the time. Previously, Louis and Zoey arrived home to find Francis and Bill pissed and singing songs from _Muppet's Treasure Island…_ Scary thought! *Cue _East Enders _Music*

Chapter Five

Stranger on the Scene

If Francis thought he could get away with it, he wouldn't. He found that issue of nuts magazine between his books, and he had the perfect pay back. Slowly, Louis creaked open the door to the living room, not disturbing Francis from his makeshift sofa bed. The hulk of a man was completely out of his head since the night before. Louis slipped the small, white device out of his pocket and flicked a small switch, careful not to shine the bright light of the screen onto the sleeping form that was Francis. Slowly, he slipped the iPod under Francis' pillow, and plugged in a speaker jack to the headphone slot. He attached the jack to two large, surround sound subwoofers. He positioned one in the corner of the room furthest from the door, and one next to the door. He then flicked the iPod to the most drunk-disturbing song of all time, and ran while the song was still on the small silence before it began.

_We're no strangers to love,_

_You know the rules, and so do I._

_You know commitments what I'm_

_Thinkin' of!_

_You won't get this from_

_Any other Guy!*_

All Louis could hear from outside the door was Francis screaming and thrashing about as his hung over head was pounded with noise and humiliation. Louis was bent over double in laughter as he returned to his room. This moment would be one he wouldn't forget for a long time.

***

Bill made his way groggily down the stairs. Was it him, or was aging making hangovers worse? It was then he remembered they had not yet got any food to stock the fridge. He groaned as he made his way back upstairs to put on a white t-shirt, slack shorts, cotton over shirt and sandals that Zoey had bought him, bless her. They looked good and didn't make him look too old. In fact, he considered himself to look more "hip" and "trendy." Was that what young people's style was like these days? The more he dwelled on it, the more he had to shake his head. He wasn't THAT old, and he knew people like Zoey wouldn't make fashion mistakes. He was just hung over and tired, and his head was playing tricks with him. He walked shakily back down the stairs and poured himself a cup of tea (a luxury the military thought would be useful – people would be tired from running and screaming) and sat down at the small, round table in the dining room, waiting for the others to come down so they could find something to eat.

Louis was the next to emerge, looking rather casual in jeans and a green t-shirt.

"Man, Zoey really knows what kind of clothes we like. It's like she's known us for years!" he said, seeing the considerably less war-torn looking Bill sitting casually at the table.

"Yup, I guess by what you're saying I must look pretty good in what I'd consider to be the kind of thing you wear to the beach," Bill replied, stretching a little and swallowing a mouthful of tea. Louis poured himself his own cup of hot, thirst-quenching delight from the kettle and sat down to join Bill, waiting for Zoey and Francis.

"_He won't be here any time soon!" _he thought, a smug grin spreading slowly across his face.

Zoey came downstairs wearing a rather fetching yellow vest, that didn't cover her belly button and below. It was adorned with a sequined pink flower that glittered slightly when she walked past some light. She wore a pair of jeans that were only barely loose around the waist, and she wore some fancy white trainers. She wore many bangles around her wrists and when she noticed Louis and Bill staring at her, wide eyed, she simply tilted her head to the side and smiled sweetly. A long silence followed.

"Jeez, woman you ain't gone hippy on us, have ya?" Bill said eventually. Zoey's smile faded and she scowled at Bill. He simply shrugged. Another silence followed.

"Well, I think you look damn nice! Bright colours suit you!" Louis chirped, eager to break the tense silence.

"Well, you would think that, wouldn't ya?" came a sly yet gruff voice from the doorway behind Louis. He slowly turned to find Francis, still in his old biker leathers, leaning against the doorframe, cracking his knuckles. The muscular figure reached into his pocket and drew out Louis' iPod. "I think you might o' left this on under my pillow," Francis said venomously.

"You shouldn't leave a copy of Nuts magazine between _Wind in the Willows _and _Northern Lights _then, should you?" Louis said, with just as much poison dripping from his voice. Louis smiled triumphantly as Bill shot Francis a crafty look and Zoey simply looked at him with a worried expression. Francis went bright red.

"You win," he muttered. Louis' smirk became a wicked grin and he rubbed Francis playfully on the head, like you would a dog.

"Good boy!" he said, trying to be as patronising as possible without bursting out laughing.

***

Out in the very centre of the small community was a little market square. It sold produce and essential goods that the first people to be evacuated took with them. There was an ample supply of fruit, both tinned and fresh, and even a small butcher that had managed to convince the evacuation committee to allow a truck full of meat. Bill was looking through some packaged foods, including cereal, porridge oats and do-it-yourself cooking kits. Francis observed carefully from the sidelines, not giving a damn about what everyone was doing unless it actually directly involved him. When Zoey waved him over to check out some new clothes, he groaned before trudging miserably over to the little corner stall.

Louis, on the other hand, was browsing jewellery. It was all rather expensive, but he felt it would be worth it. He looked over rubies, emeralds and amethysts to try to find something Zoey would love. His eyes settled on a beautiful turquoise stone, set into a gilded silver ring. Spots of light danced over it in the early morning sunrise, and Louis quickly checked around for a price tag, groaning and running his hands over his head when he saw the price tag of over one hundred and fifty dollars. He'd need to find some work around here before he could even hope to come close to that.

He looked over to Zoey. She was only at the opposite end of the market, but she seemed so much further away than that. He sighed, his heavy heart still aching. He just needed the perfect moment, but without the ring it wouldn't work. Still gazing on, he admired her hair, and her dainty hands… in someone else's? Startled, he looked up to the face of the man shaking her hand. He was smiling and laughing with her. He was quite pale, yet slightly tanned, and his longish dirty blonde hair barely reached his shoulders. He was tall, but not to muscled, and he wore a black cardigan with tan, slack cargo pants. Trying not to look in a hurry, Louis made his way over to them.

Just as the intruder walked away, he arrived. Trying to sound casual and not too worried, he approached Zoey.

"Who was that?" he asked, trying to sound curious and not anxious.

"Oh, yes, that was my ex," she replied hurriedly. Not matter how much Louis tried to hide it; she could still see he was worried about this new guy on the scene. "His name's Tristan and we decided it would be best if we split up. Neither of us dumped each other, it was more of a mutual agreement, seeing as he'd be going to a university a few states away," she continued, a slight blush spreading across her face. Sometimes Louis was too much like a brother, on this occasion too caring about what kind of boys she got into. She smiled a little and nodded thanks for Louis' concern, and she started back to the house.

The fact that Zoey had an ex that she hadn't dumped "properly" was worrying for Louis. There was every chance the two could pick up where their lives left off, and the thought made his gut twist. He tightened his fist and clenched his teeth for a moment; the inevitable was happening, but how soon it was worried him more.

*****

_*I really could not resist bringing Rick Astley into the story. I may have to make this story come u__nder the humor category as well, at this rate. For anyone who doesn't know, being rickroll'd is when you hear the song "Never gonna give you up" by Rick Astly without expecting it._

Aw, a nice installment, lots of nice feelings here, but unfortunately our first anti-Louis! Dun, dun, DUUUN!!

When reviewing:

DO: Give small complaints and ideas and offer advice on how to fix them, give positive feedback on whether you enjoyed the story or not, suggest ideas on what romance/comedy/drama events could happen at the refugee camp.

DON'T: Flame, yell, flood, give unnecessarily mean comments or opinions, say how much the story sucks.

MOST OF ALL: If you still think this chapter is a little on the short side, feel free to say so this time. Just don't flame about it.


	6. Chapter 6

People, can I hear a "woop woop"? well, I can't cos you probably live many many hundreds of miles away (I'm in UK) and sound can't physically travel THAT far. Anyways, seeing as months have past since my last update, I've decided months have passed in story world too. We pick up at the survivor's house…

Chapter Six

As time goes by…

Waking up was becoming a real bitch recently. With no purpose besides her work, Zoey didn't feel the need to be up so early. Then she realized work was important, and that she had about 15 minutes to get dressed and set off. Hurriedly rushing down the stairs, still dragging her work shirt over her underwear, she grabbed her keys and backpack, shouted a hurried goodbye to the others before swinging out of the door and slamming it behind her.

Bill only actually said goodbye about five minutes later, as he was far too engrossed in _The Weakest Link _to be bothered.

Louis was reading the newspaper while he waited for his coffee to brew. Checking the headlines through once more, he couldn't help but chuckle whenever he saw the main news.

_A new milestone for the cure!_

Strange. The infection seemed so far away in this blissful corner of the earth, and his turmoil and fear was so long ago that it'd already been completely pushed to the deepest recesses of his mind. He had a job fixing old computers that had been salvaged – after all, he did this pretty well before. Except now he seemed to get more enjoyment out of it; gone were the rude customers who would urge him to hurry up, and here were the people who would offer him cups of tea or maybe even some bacon rolls his efforts. He had no desire to quit what so ever.

He was so close to the 150 dollars he needed to buy that perfect gift for his most cherished of loves. They had gotten to know each other more over the months since they got here. It was not quite time yet though. Though they had shared some moments, Tristan still posed too much of an obstacle, and Zoey was spending more time with him than Louis would have liked. The world was no cakewalk, apparently.

Francis had been rueful when Zoey first gestured him to the clothes stall, completely loath to get rid of his jacket and vest – until he saw the Harley Davidson official brand leathers for sale. He had done his best puppy dog (or rather Bull Terrier) eyes to Zoey, and she gave in. Now he felt not only cleaner, but more awesome. He vowed that once the cure was finally complete, he would return home, take up his bike and ride into the sunset. He almost cried with happiness at the beauty of the scene playing out in his head.

Downstairs, Bill turned over to _Whose Line is it Anyway?_...

Zoey hung at the back of the knick knack shop she had found work at. It was little more than a pair of sports gazebos with tables of brick-a-brack strewn underneath it. She took in a deep sigh of autumnal air. The weather started to grow cold, and the summer sun began to grow old. Greeting a customer with a genuinely happy smile and asking if they were interested in a china tea set, she came into a brief nostalgic trance. Her first day of junior school, her first crush, her high school friends, he first kiss, meeting her roommates at college… the thought only just occurred to her that most of the people she remembered would be dead or infected. She sighed, before looking off across the settlement. It hadn't grown much since they first arrived. She saw Tristan looking at her from afar, and she smiled and waved to him, before biting her lower lip. She was starting to remember why she liked him in the first place.

Behind him, there was another person she knew only too well. Her face filled with shock and then glee when she saw them, and she immediately straightened up and began to head over to them.

"_Mum?_" she gasped to herself.

*****

It has occurred to me I portray Bill too stereotypically. At some point I will have some chapters dedicated to him, so that's something to look forward to.

After a request, Zoey's parents are here. Thanks for the idea, guys!

Just re introducing the story after suffering much less of a writer's block, more of a whole damn brick wall of writer's blocks, and I'm happy with the result. Sorry, my fans, for the delay. We are back in business!

When reviewing:

DO: Give small complaints and ideas and offer advice on how to fix them, give positive feedback on whether you enjoyed the story or not, suggest ideas on what romance/comedy/drama events could happen at the refugee camp.

DON'T: Flame, yell, flood, give unnecessarily mean comments or opinions, say how much the story sucks.

MOST OF ALL: If you still think this chapter is a little on the short side, feel free to say so this time. Just don't flame about it.


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